I am often asked "What was life like during the war"? "What did you do during the war"? "Where did you serve during the war"?

I have difficulty recalling from memory the answers to these questions so now I am endeavouring to put my memories into print. Everyone's reply to the questions will differ; no two people had the same experience during this period. I have set out the foregoing answers to the questions from memory as best I am able.

BANDSMAN to CRAFTSMAN

One Mans Recollections Of Life During World War 2

1939-1945

I was born in 1914 the second child of a railway clerk, my sister having been born about eighteen months earlier. I am an upholsterer by trade and was settling down to life with my wife and young daughter.

The country was just recovering from the first world war, but in 1938 following a meeting in Germany between Neville Chamberlain, (our Prime Minister), and Hitler when an agreement was signed saying that our two countries would never go to war against each other again; a uneasy peace existed and defence preparations went ahead.

Public buildings were fitted out with blackout blinds, air raid shelters were made available for employees and civilian organisations were trained for rescue, first aid, fire fighting, nursing; and schools were prepared for use by evacuees from disaster areas.

On the 1st of September 1939 it was announced over the radio that all forces reservists and Territorial Army members were to report to their depots, I was a Bandsman in our local "Terriers" company and on reporting was ordered to parade in full battle dress the next day and on doing so was billeted, along with other members, in a house nearby where we were to feed and sleep, However, we were a motley ill-disciplined lot and I for one went home at night but had meals at the lodgings, the people there treated us very well indeed. On Sunday Sept 3rd we paraded to St Nicholas Chapel and whilst we were there the Prime minister announced over the radio that we were now at war with Germany.

Our lives were about to be disrupted for a number of years. We now carried our Army Pay Books at all times and three identity disks embossed with our regimental number, name and religion were issued. These discs were made of hard fibre material and hung round our necks on a string. Gasmasks issued to service personnel in a canvas bag were carried on the front of the chest with supporting straps over the shoulders. Those issued to civilians were much lighter in weight and were carried in a small card box suspended by a string around the neck.

Strict blackout laws were introduced, this meant windows and doors had to be heavily draped with dark material, or shuttered so that there was no light emission, street lights were turned off and vehicle's lights were masked so that they gave only a narrow horizontal downward beam of light, people were allowed to carry torches which had to be used with extreme care, never to be pointed upwards. Air raid wardens were appointed who patrolled the streets after dark had powers to enforce these rules. We were soon to learn what discipline was all about; it came in the shape of an ex-Guards drill sergeant who was posted to us with the rank of Regimental Sergeant Major.

A strict disciplinarian he lost no time in making his presence felt, including taking on the officers. From being Saturday afternoon soldiers, as the "Terriers" were affectionately known, he made us into real soldiers. The bandsmen carried on with first-aid and stretcher-bearer training, which is traditionally their role in times of war. This we did on the Walks football ground possibly spending more time playing football than doing our training, all very well until the surprise appearance one day of the R S M. The following day we were ordered to parade in full marching order and he let us have it, foot-drill, rifle-drill, marching, turning, wheeling, I think at some time each of the sections, signallers, machine-gun squad, headquarters staff, received the same treatment. We were given medical checks and a Jab or two, inoculated, had Dental checks and received treatment.

After some discussion between my wife and I and my parents it was decided it would be best to leave the house we were renting in West Lynn and we moved in with my parents in Lynn. My wife was now several months pregnant with our second child. A friend who had some space to spare stored our home

On the first of November we had to tear ourselves away from our loved ones and all the people who had been so kind to us since we were called up. We boarded a train at King's Lynn, which took us to Aldershot the renowned garrison town in Hampshire where we were accommodated in Talavera barracks.

By this time my wife was about due to give birth and one day I was called to the Guard room to answer a phone call, it was my father calling to tell me my wife had been taken to hospital where she had given birth to a stillborn child. I went to the company office hoping to be granted some leave but was refused admission to the office, and on turning away from the office door I spotted the R S M, I approached him in the best military manner I could muster. In his usual sharp manner "Yes what is it you want" he barked and as I somewhat nervously told him my problem he suddenly became human and without further to do marched me back to the company office, "wait there lad" he barked, although at this time his voice did have a tone of kindness, it had lost some of it's parade-ground harshness.

He marched into the office leaving me standing outside, I heard some loud conversation and after a few moments he emerged saying to me "someone will be with you shortly lad" and with that he marched off. After a short time a sergeant came out and gave me a four-day leave pass and a travel warrant, I was very soon entrained on my way home to spend a couple of days with my wife and daughter and my parents. So that seemingly heartless character did have a heart after all.

During November the battalion trained and were involved in field exercises including our role as a pioneer battalion to the 51st Highland infantry division. During this period orders had been received that we would proceed overseas in the New Year and the band played for the last time, leading the battalion to a service at the garrison church. After this we were given embarkation leave. We had our first Christmas dinner, army style, in the men's mess. We embarked at Southampton on the 13th January 1940 and sailed for France. On arriving at Cherbourg we boarded a train, in cattle trucks, it was a long bitterly cold journey, we were now well and truly parted from family and friends; the question was "for how long?" For the majority who were taken prisoner in France it was to be for five years; for a few, such as myself it was to be a few months.

Some were killed in action and never returned. Our letters home had to be left unsealed to be censored by the officers, which made it difficult to write passionately to those close to us. Our address was simply B E F France. So people at home did not know exactly where we were. During January we received parcels of Woollen Comforts from the King's Lynn depot for Servicemen's Comforts. These parcels contained Scarves, Balaclavas and Gloves knitted by a group of ladies headed by Winifred Catleugh, Mayoress of King's Lynn.

Meanwhile at home the Local Defence Volunteer (L D V) force had been formed, to provide defence in the event of invasion and first aid and rescue work during and after air raids. From this force the Home Guard (Dads Army) was formed, as was the Air Raids Precautions (A R P) group. My father served as a First Aid worker in this latter group. Civilians volunteered for work of their choice then met at allotted points in the evenings to do training ready to carry out rescue work should it be required.

During the day, if their services should be needed they were called from their places of work by the sounding of air raid Sirens. Although these people were allowed to choose the type of work they wished to do it became compulsory to do something. Cellars were fitted out to be used as air-raid shelters; candles and matches were in great demand to light these shelters if required, tinned foods were also stocked and somewhat crude toilet facilities assembled. Concrete shelters were built in the streets for communal use.

Two types of shelters were supplied for family use where there were no cellars and street shelters were not practical; Anderson shelters for outdoor use were made of corrugated iron and were sunk into the ground about 4 or 5 feet, the roofs covered with earth and turf; provided shelter for about 6 to 8 people. The Morrison shelter designed for indoor use, was a large steel table the top being a sheet of steel about 6ftx4ft with angled steel legs at each corner, in the bottom was a steel mesh bed base on to which a mattress and bed clothing could be laid, and so one crawled into bed under a protective steel sheet, in your own living room. These proved very popular with elderly people and saved many lives when buildings collapsed during air raids. Air raid wardens kept a record as to the position of these indoor shelters within the houses so as to facilitate rescue work. Stirrup pumps to extinguish fires with water, sand and long-handled shovels and sandbags to extinguish incendiary bombs were issued to households.

As for the other members of my family, my sister joined the local company of the Auxiliary Territorial Service (A T S), the women's section of the army, my older brother was already a member of the same T A company as myself serving in the signal section, my younger brother was still at school, on leaving school as soon as he was old enough he joined the Royal Navy. As already mentioned my father was serving as a first-aid worker, my mother kept the home-fires burning, later in the war some Canadian A T S were billeted with her but there was always room for us to come home to. Now we really were a family at war.

The weather in France was quite atrocious. Bitterly cold, frozen roads and heavy falls of snow. We were billeted in cowsheds, in lofts above cattle sheds and other farm outbuildings, at times the snow came in through the roof and covered our beds as we slept, our beds being two blankets on a wooden floor. We slept with our clothes on removing only our boots, which we placed inside the blankets otherwise they were frozen stiff in the morning. Water for washing and shaving we drew from a well and iced over while we were using it.

The ground was frozen solid. It was while we were in this area we saw the huge military cemeteries with thousands of headstones to the memory of men killed during the first world war, each stone carved with the soldiers regimental badge, his name, rank and army number and a short epitaph. After a few days we moved further north to the Metz and Alsace Lorraine area, our billets here were more comfortable, though still very hard. Patrols went out at night beyond the Maginot line to find out what the enemy were up to. We were now living close to the enemy who began to shell the woods where they suspected we were. We witnessed aerial Dogfights between Spitfires and Messerscmitt and saw one of the Messerscmitts shot down.

The enemy dropped leaflets urging French soldiers to give up their arms assuring them they would be well cared for. A message arrived at the company office saying that if I so wished I could proceed to a Royal Army Ordnance Corps Workshop for Trade testing as a Textile refitter. This meant if I were successful a few pence would be added to my wife's weekly allowance. After medical tests known as (F F I's) fit and free from infection, I said goodbye to my brother and pals and boarded a train at Metz destined for "I knew not where".

My instructions were to report to the Railway Transport Office (R T O) on arrival at a named railway station where I was given instructions and boarded a train to report at another stop. At Rouen I was taken to a hotel and fed and slept the night, after breakfast I boarded another train, which took me to my hitherto unknown destination, Nantes.

The R A O C workshops I had been posted to was in a large Peugeot Garage which had been taken over by the French authorities and on my arrival all of the personnel were gathered round a radio which was high on a pillar in the middle of the workshops, with the exception of the radio there was dead silence.

During my three-day train journey I had no idea what was happening in other parts of Europe, I was soon to learn, through that radio, the Germans had invaded Belgium and were advancing south into northern France. I reported to the office and was allotted a bed space on a balcony overlooking the workshops.

The next morning I reported for duty to the Staff-sergeant in charge of the textile refitting workshop and was duly put to work making new canvases and fitting them to stretchers which I had previously stripped of torn, muddy and blood-spattered canvases, this after serving as a stretcher-bearer in an Infantry battalion.

After a few days I ventured forth into the outside world to observe the pitiful sight of thousands of refugees fleeing southwards ahead of the advancing German army. I wondered what had happened to all the pals I had left behind in northern France. I had received no letters from home and no idea how much they had learned of the disaster unfolding here on the continent. We were very soon uprooted and were taken to an aerodrome on the outskirts of St Nazaire, where we stayed the night, sleeping around the perimeter, under the stars. The next morning we set off marching to the Docks, a long tiresome march brought about by the volume of bodies making for the docks and hoping to be able to board a ship to get home to England.

On the 17th June our party, about six hundred of us boarded a trader and lay on the steel decks. On leaving the docks we came across the troopship Lancastria which had been bombed and had keeled over with only the bottom of the hull and keel above water. The number of personnel on board at the time will never be known, estimates of 5000 and 7000 have been quoted and it is believed 2500 were rescued, the crew of our ship and others in the vicinity took part in the rescue work. We will never know how many young men perished in this incident.

After a couple of days sailing we approached Plymouth harbour but were unable to dock as the harbour was already crowded with a mass of vessels waiting to unload their human cargoes, a naval boat brought out tins of food to us. We then set sail for Southampton where we disembarked to join the many thousands of troops already there, at no time had we any idea where we might be heading. As we sat around on the concrete of the dockside one man amongst all the thousands stood up with a Bren gun over his shoulder, we had been school pals since the age of five.

We boarded a train and were taken to Leicester and slept on the floor of the De Montfort hall, the next day we paraded in Victoria park and were told not to talk about the horrible tragedy we had witnessed at St Nazaire; a coalition government had been agreed between the Conservative and Labour parties; Winston Churchill was now prime minister and Clement Attlee; leader of the labour party his deputy, Churchill had forbidden radio and newspapers to make any mention of the tragedy; we were then given four days leave.

A few days after I had returned to the unit at Leicester my wife received a letter from the War office to say that I was missing, such was the chaos! One blessing was that no longer were our letters home censored, we could write freely of our affections and experiences.

I was aware when I last saw my wife that she was longing to move to the village some 20 miles from King's Lynn where she had spent her childhood days. During the time I was moving about France and making my way back to England she had gone to stay with her parents there. Having received no news of me she was unaware of my whereabouts and was understandably surprised when I appeared, we spent a marvellous few days together and it was agreed she should look for accommodation in the village.

Her father was working on a nearby aerodrome maintaining runways etc. he had been a prisoner of war in Germany during the first world war, an older brother had joined the Royal Army Service Corps and was soon on active service in the Middle East where he was to see service for the duration of the war, her sister joined the A T S, two younger brothers had left school and were doing farm work, the youngest member, a brother, was at school. Her father and the two farm-working brothers trained with the Home Guard in their spare time and were called out in times of emergency, i.e. air raids.

All too soon I had to return to Leicester and was billeted with people living near the park where we paraded daily. I had been serving with R A O C since reporting to the workshop in Nantes, but officially I was still a member of my county regiment I had left behind in northern France. I was later to learn that out of the battalion I had left, numbering almost 1000 men, the majority had been taken Prisoners of war, my brother included, that was to be their fate for some five to six years.

A few of the men had unfortunately been killed in action, just one officer and thirty-six men made it home to England. I was dispatched from Leicester by train in search of my old battalion, to Torquay where I spent a lovely week in a holiday camp the weather being hot and sunny, from there I was sent to Sheffield and, after a couple of days, on to Dumfries in Scotland where the commanding officer agreed it would be best if I reported to the barracks in Norwich, the headquarters of my old regiment.

I was soon on my way back to my home county. The stay there lasted about a week and my wife and daughter came and stayed with an aunt who lived in the city and I was issued a sleeping out pass. I recall that during the days at the depot we spent some time digging air raid trenches.

Once more I had to say goodbye to my family as I was posted to a RAOC depot at Hilsea, Portsmouth to continue trade testing which had been curtailed when we left France. I was only there for maybe two or three weeks. Not once during my time there did I see the workshops, I spent all of my time on guard duties, Dawn watch, up before dawn scanning the skies and beaches for any signs that the enemy might be invading, and Stand-by, sleeping on the floor fully clothed Armed with rifle and ammunition to be called out at a minutes notice to deal with any signs of enemy action.

It was after one of these tours of duty I was called to company office to receive notice of a posting to Catford, SE London. Once again I was on the move disrupting all contact with home, my wife not knowing where I was and me not receiving any news from her. Here we were billeted in Plassey road school. It was now evening and having familiarised myself with the surroundings I and another newcomer made our way to the nearest pub for a refresher, on returning to the school we were told we could not return to the bed spaces we had previously been allotted as air raid warnings had sounded.

And so once more I was to sleep on a wooden floor; in a cloakroom. I was about to doze off when there was one hell of a thud, which shook the floor we were laying on. Since the two of us were fully clothed it took only a few minutes to put our boots on and get outside to see what was happening. A bomb had been dropped midway along a row of terraced houses reducing two of them to rubble, ARP services had very quickly arrived, firemen, rescue workers, first aid men and women and ambulances.

One elderly man was brought out and placed on a stretcher, he was pleading with his rescuers to find his wife who was under the rubble and they were doing their best to reassure him they would find her. They did find her but unfortunately she had perished, one or two more people were rescued but I do not know what condition they were in.

I reported to the workshop next morning, and was told what the work there was all about. At the outbreak of war the country was ill equipped for modern warfare and now we were desperately trying to make our forces mobile, specially designed lorries were arriving at the workshops from the factories and also machinery and our job was to mount the machines onto benches to make mobile workshops to back up Infantry and Artillery units, when they were in action by carrying out repairs and replacing damaged equipment on the spot as opposed to abandoning the equipment or returning it to depots miles behind the theatre of war.

My part in this was to make awnings to hang over drop-down benches along the sides of the lorries. I had not had the opportunity to do my trade testing but on account of my ability to carry out the work required, on the 30th Oct 1940 I was reclassified from Regimental stretcher bearer to Textile refitter Class 1, my wife would now be receiving the long awaited pay increase of a few pennies a week. I now held the rank of Private in the Royal Army Ordnance Corps and was no longer serving with my former infantry regiment as a stretcher-bearer with the rank of Bandsman.

From now on the air raid sirens sounded almost every evening and people left their homes carrying bundles of blankets and pillows and scurried to shelters often spending the night there until the All Clear sounded in the morning. A number of civilian tradesmen were employed in our workshops and in order to give them an occasional good nights rest it was arranged for our army drivers to take them in lorries to Chislehurst caves in Kent, I was fortunate to be duty escort on a couple of nights. Electric lighting had been installed, toilet facilities provided and mugs of tea were available, we took blankets and lay on the ground, hundreds of people slept there every night.

We army personnel worked in the workshops during the day and at night guard duties had to be carried out, 2 hours on 4hours off; in pairs, armed and with rifles and ammunition. The local children loved to come and chat with us and it was during one of the raids one of the boys aged 11 was killed attempting to extinguish an incendiary bomb. His sisters broke the news to us the next day.

My mother sent a telegram to say my grandmother had died on my birthday; 20th Nov I. I was allowed leave for her funeral. My wife had now found a cottage to rent in her village, one room up and one down, the door opened into the room which served as kitchen, living room, wash room, dining room and bathroom.

An open fire with an oven, all the hot water was heated on this, a winding staircase lead to the bedroom; under the staircase, in a cupboard was stored a circular iron washstand complete with white enamel basin, this we lifted into the room to do our daily ablutions, dirty water was deposited into a galvanised bucket to be taken and thrown on the garden. The top half of the door was the only downstairs window.

At night the room was lighted with a paraffin oil lamp which had to be filled daily and the wick trimmed, this hung from a ceiling beam and the heat from it warmed a patch of the linoleum covered bedroom floor, my wife claimed this patch to do her undressing. There was one small window in the bedroom, a candle provided lighting at night.

The toilet was a hut up the garden path which housed a wooden seat more like a shelf with a hole, beneath this was a bucket which was emptied weekly into a hole dug in the garden. No electricity, no gas, water came from an outside tap shared with neighbours. That was our home until eighteen months after I was discharged from the army in 1945. My wife was very happy living here with our daughter and in 1942 our son was born in the cottage. She was with her own people, family and friends with whom she had spent her schooldays.

Earlier in the war Rationing had been introduced which meant no longer could civilians buy food in quantities required but only in amounts laid down by the Ministry of food, Ration books were issued and shopkeepers were obliged to mark books as they supplied the goods so there was no possibility of getting a second issue elsewhere. Almost every household in the village had a garden; a slogan "Dig for Victory" urged everyone to grow vegetables and a great barter system in vegetables developed.

People who had large enough gardens were able to keep a pig which was fed on kitchen waste supplied by family and neighbours, and mixed with meal and water, sent to a slaughterhouse at the appropriate time, jointed and shared, some was cured and hung from the rafters, some was immersed in salt water to preserve. Chickens were bred for the table and for a supply of eggs, surplus eggs were placed in large stone vessels and covered with waterglass; a Sodium Silicate solution to preserve them, no fridge freezers in those days.

A good old-fashioned poacher lived nearby; who, in return for meals my wife and neighbours cooked for him provided a supply of game, goose eggs and on one occasion a goose. My wife was a good gardener and was ably assisted by her brothers living in the village. "Spivs" who were able to acquire almost anything operated a Black Market in goods not easily available, at a price! Some shopkeepers were able to acquire surplus goods and sell them covertly from "under the counter"

The government advised people not to gossip about anything they may have heard concerning the war effort however insignificant it may seem. Posters were displayed bearing mottos such as "Hush Keep it Dark" and "The Walls Have Ears".

On returning to Catford at the end of the Compassionate leave I discovered our barrack-type quarters were moved from Plassey road school to St. Dunstan's College not far away. This was more spacious, more sleeping room, more ablution space and better equipment and space for the cooks as well as a larger dining hall. It also comprised a large hall; members of the unit formed a dance band and the public were invited to join us on Saturday evenings.

Large playing fields provided space for us to exercise, around the perimeter the lorries were parked either heading for our workshops or, having been fitted out as mobile workshops, awaiting dispatch to field units. Air raid warnings were sounded frequently by day and night, most of the raiders were bound for the city, and barrage.balloons looking rather like small airships tethered to winches operated by R A F personnel were raised to force the raiders to fly at a height at which the Artillery stood a better chance of hitting them with shells from their Ack-Ack (anti aircraft) guns.

I visited my sister one Sunday who was stationed in Cadogen gardens Chelsea, with a company of A T S doing cookhouse, office and other duties to relieve Guardsmen for operational duties. When I left to return to Catford an air raid was in progress, the London docks were on fire and there was a huge traffic jam of vehicles endeavouring to salvage goods from the dockside. I was fortunate in that I was able to board a bus heading my way but after a while the driver pulled up at a public air raid shelter and refused to go any further and who could blame him?.

Incendiary bombs were falling all around and there was no rescue service available to assist. It was a truly frightening situation being helpless to assist in any way. People were running from their homes that were on fire but there were not enough fire services to cope, they were completely overwhelmed.

Having realised there was nothing I could do to help I started walking and was joined by a civilian man; we walked, at times looking back at the horrific sight around us. We walked along Lewisham High street which was strewn with huge pieces of fallen masonry, it was known that pilots of enemy aircraft not having reached their target or were disabled in some way would turn about and unload their bombs indiscriminately to lighten the weight of the aircraft hoping to make their way back to Germany, some made it some did not. I have no idea what time I arrived back at my billets, I lay down fully clothed on the concrete floor of an air raid shelter in the grounds of the college and slept, no doubt!

On another occasion I was returning to my unit from leave and crossing London after the city had suffered a heavy bombardment, streets around St. Paul's cathedral were littered with fallen masonry and firemen were damping down still smouldering buildings. It was evening and hundreds of people were settling down on the underground platforms with blankets and pillows and a supply of hot drinks and sandwiches they had carried from home, in anticipation of yet another night of air raids. London Bridge station, where I was to catch a train for Catford had been hit but miraculously trains were running.

During one of these raids the entrance to an underground station received a direct hit entombing a number of people who were sheltering there. Rescue work carried on while there was hope of finding anyone alive, after which the entrance was sealed. To best of my knowledge it was never re-opened.

And so life carried on until Hitler lost a considerable number of planes in one raid, brought down by R A F pilots in Hurricane and Spitfire fighter planes, and so ended the "Battle or Britain". Other cities suffered heavy raids, reducing large areas to rubble and killing and injuring thousands of people. In April 1942 Norwich was subjected to two of these raids in which some 200 people were killed and many injured. King's Lynn was also hit and in one raid a direct hit on a crowded public house killed a large number of people and there were scores of injuries

During the time I was stationed in Catford I suffered several painful incidents, whilst skylarking about one morning I injured muscles in my left shoulder and neck, the Medical officer was called who bandaged me with yards of 3 inch wide Elastoplast tape. I was excused all duties for ten days and then suffered the painful experience of having the tape ripped off, after a few days light duty I was back on duty again.

At another time I had pain in my lower jaw, reported sick, the medical officer applied for a dental appointment but after a couple of days waiting I could stand the pain no longer, went to a civvy dentist who promptly extracted four front teeth, the army dental appointment came through and on attendance I was told the teeth should never have been removed as this was a gum infection, after a few more visits everything was back to normal, with exception of four front teeth!

During November 1941 I developed severe tonsillitis and was taken to the Royal Artillery hospital at Woolwich; where during Medical Officers (doctors) rounds, patients were ordered to lay to attention, as if on parade, those who were able stood at ease by their beds and on the officers approach were called to attention.

After ten days I was granted Sick leave and was soon on my way to the cosy one up and one down cottage to spend seven days with my wife and daughter and the villagers. At this time it was still possible to get a good pint of beer at the three locals, the women's institute had organised a writing-room come canteen and reading-room in the church hall for service men stationed in the area, this was lit by oil lamps and candles, the ladies providing sausage rolls and sandwiches from their rations with some help from the local grocers and butchers. Some local musicians formed a dance band and organised dances in the village hall. My wife was now happily integrated into the village life.

Before Christmas 1941 I was posted to Northern Ireland and after a long train journey in a packed overcrowded train crossed from Stranraer to Larne aboard an equally overcrowded ferry, another train took me to a base-camp. In about a week I was sent to a workshop set in the grounds of a large house. This was to be my first experience of living in Nissen huts, sleeping on a straw filled pallias on a concrete floor a kitbag for a pillow.

Here I met a textile-refitter who had been an apprentice one year ahead of me in King's Lynn. The camp was situated at the foot of the Mountains of Mourne and was so very muddy every man was issued with Wellington boots, the regulation army boots being quite useless in these conditions, concrete paths had been laid which helped but even so if two people met one had to give way and step into the mud. This situation was totally unsuitable for carrying out our work in the tented accommodation provided. Whenever the sun did shine we saw it for just a few minutes, the mountains shaded it most of the time.

Early in 1942 we moved to a far more suitable situation once again in the grounds of a large country house on higher ground overlooking a small town about a mile away still living in hutted accommodation but with a decent cookhouse and dining hut we also had a N A F F I (canteen).

The workshops were housed in farm buildings much more suitable for carrying out the work required of us. Service in Northern Ireland was designated Home service the same as service on the mainland and so our letters home were not censored. During time off duty we were able to walk to the town and were made welcome in the clubs, pubs, churches and shops etc. by the local people.

We were very pleasantly surprised one evening when a regular invited three of us to join him after the pub closed and took us to his daughters house, she was a woman of about 35 to 40 years of age with three young children, her husband was serving in the army somewhere in England, and after introductions he left us saying "wait there I'll be back" it turned out he was the local butcher and it was not long before he returned with a supply of steaks and daughter got busy cooking a meal for all of us, this became a frequent occurrence, usually on a Friday evening.
We were constantly reminded that first and foremost we were soldiers and our work as tradesmen took a secondary role and so to this end we spent one day each week weapon training, field craft, orienteering, map reading, unarmed combat and manoeuvres etc.

Drivers were something of a rarity in those days and so driving lessons were laid on; it was considered that in battle conditions every man should be able to drive in order to take over if one man got knocked out. We were encouraged to learn to carry out the all- important "Daily Tasks" on vehicles; checking oil, water, tyres etc.

One hot summers day I was leading a patrol on manoeuvres, we had drunk all the water from our bottles, knocked on a farmhouse door and on asking if occupants could give us a refill were quickly invited into the kitchen, sat at a long wooden table and soon we were facing a meal of bacon, eggs and tomatoes etc.

All of this took quite a long time to consume, which meant we arrived at the rendezvous somewhat late. It seems a search party had been out looking for us and so I had some explaining to do. "Well sir somehow we got lost and on realising this we consulted our map, looked around for church spires and the position of the sun and were able to find our way", albeit not the route we had been expected to take.

And so I was commended for leading my men to safety. Sunday afternoons, during the winter months were usually spent in the huts laying on our beds or sitting around the tortoise stove swapping yarns and playing cards gambling with money which was strictly forbidden; we had a blanket laying handy to throw over cards and money just in case we should hear someone approaching.

We were often short of "fags", maybe only one or two of us having a last one in the packet, one of these "gaspers" would be lit and passed round for each of us in turn to have a "drag", and so the afternoons passed. "In bed or out of barracks" An old army saying I remember; was not observed on those Sundays.

We often listened to a radio programme put out by the Germans in English by a British traitor who was constantly giving advice to our womenfolk as to the futility of carrying on with the war; We could not possibly win! He spoke at great length and with considerable exaggeration on any point he thought would impress us, thousands of people tuned in to his daily outpourings, simply to have a good laugh, we honoured him with the title of "Lord Haw-Haw". (After the war he was tried by Allies at the Nuremburg war trials, for treason; and executed).

One good point about serving in Northern Ireland was that goods that were rationed at home were readily available over the border from the Southern province; cigarettes silk stockings, nylons and tights had not yet been invented; watches and jewellery were favourites to take home to wives and sweethearts no doubt to mothers as well. While serving at home in Britain an entitlement of leave known as Privilege leave, became due every few months.

In Northern Ireland this was not always possible when due, space on ferries to the mainland was disrupted during periods of rough weather, at times they were cancelled for days. When I was granted leave for 14 days it meant quite a long journey; train to Larne, ferry to Stranraer, train to London and train to Brandon or King's Lynn so that 2 of the days leave was spent travelling. However, it was good to get home for a while with the wife and daughter and I was able to visit my parents for a day.

Our son was born on the 10th of May 1942 at home in the tiny cottage, no going to hospital in those days unless some serious complication arose. A neighbour was woken about 2 o'clock in the morning, he then biked a mile or so to rouse the midwife who in turn biked along with him to tend mother and child.

The neighbour then roused members of the wife's family, water had to be boiled over a paraffin-oil stove and the open fire which was stoked up with wood and coal, all soiled linen was hand washed.

No washing machines or disposable linen in those days. Everyone lent a hand. I was granted 10 days Compassionate leave on the 25th May and so all the mayhem of childbirth was over before I arrived and apart from 1or2 sleepless nights I enjoyed a few pleasant days with family and friends.

Army workshops had always been under the command of the Royal Army Ordnance Corps but towards the end of 1942 the corps of Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers (R E M E) was formed to take over workshops and leave R A O C the job of stores and supplies, since making the army mobile; workshops had become a huge operation and warranted its own command.

On the 12th November we paraded and swapped our R A O C cap badges for the new R E M E badges and the former rank of Private was replaced with Craftsman, a number of other rank titles were also changed. I was fortunate in that in July '42 and again in October '42 I was granted 7 days leave.

Soon after this the whole of our operation was cancelled and we were shipped to England, some 1000 men and all our workshop equipment to a location in Hampshire. We had no idea what lay ahead, simply unpacking and repacking equipment. After a while it became clear we were bound for service overseas and after Christmas were sent on 7 days embarkation leave, on returning we very soon entrained for Gourrock on the Clyde and boarded a troopship, this being a liner converted to carry thousands of troops and their equipment. The holds had been fitted out with bunk beds 4 & 5 beds high packed in like sardines, described by one journalist as the "Stinking, sweating hell of a troopship".

Meal tickets were issued allocating times to be on a certain deck for meals and only a short time to eat and allow the next group to take their places, quite a production line! Long queues wound around the decks for mugs of tea. Each unit of personnel was allocated a deck-space for parades and roll calls, lectures were given and talks by anyone with an interesting subject, on dismissal men sat around playing cards and telling yarns.

Drill periods were organised, as were boat drills to be sure everyone knew where to be in the event of an emergency. We sailed out of the Clyde into the north Atlantic where we discovered we were in a large convoy with a naval escort, the sea was very rough; huge waves tossing the troopships about like corks, in a very short time quite a number of us were hanging our heads over the rails being very sick

After a few days of routine familiarisation; personnel who may have had experience in certain named activities were given the opportunity to assist in the day-to-day running of the ship, I opted to work in the sick berth, this being the medical centre of the ship furnished with hospital beds and other medical equipment, manned by a nucleus of members of the Royal Army Medical Corps (R A M C), supported by volunteers such as myself, this proved to be a good move; I was now working in the coolest part of the ship listening to interesting lectures, learning about tropical diseases and medical care as applied in the forces, this was to stand me in good stead later.

Our first port-of-call was Freetown on the west coast of Africa, the whole convoy sailed into the harbour and anchored for a couple of days while victuals were replenished, we were not allowed ashore. As we left the harbour our naval escort went into action against enemy submarines and the convoy swung round in a very frightening manoeuvre and entered the harbour again which was secured by a boom drawn across the entrance; we watched as mines, dropped by our escort, were exploding in the sea.

When peace resumed we set sail again and headed into the calm of the Atlantic Ocean. Soon after this we were issued with Tropical clothing including a pith helmet which we were ordered to wear at all times when on deck, I witnessed a burial-at-sea one day when off duty; a padre conducted the service after which the body, wrapped in a stout canvas bag, was laid on a wooden chute and slid overboard into the sea, one wondered whose husband, son or sweetheart had perished and how long it would be before the folks at home would learn of his passing.
So life carried on quite pleasantly despite the overcrowding. During off-duty periods we watched dolphins and flying fish "galloping" alongside the ship and at night the electric storms in the sky were quite a spectacle, the fluorescence caused by the propellers churning the sea aft of the ship was also wonderful to watch.

We rounded the Cape and some of the convoy went into Capetown, the remainder carried on up the east coast of Africa to Durban where we docked and were allowed ashore for two or three days, returning to the ship at night, this was a most welcome break from the cramped conditions we had endured over the past few weeks.

On leaving Durban we were on our own, the remainder of the convoy headed to the Far East. We had no naval escort and the ship sailed an evasive zigzag course until arriving at Port Tewfik at the southern end of the Suez canal. We disembarked by clambering down rope ladders into small vessels, which took us ashore, and we entrained for a long sweaty, dusty journey aboard open sided coaches with wood slatted seats to Telel-Kebir; a large military base in Egypt. This was one huge tented base; row upon row of Bell tents and Marquees flies and sand.

Our address was now Middle East Forces, (M E F) to the folks at home this would indicate we could be anywhere in North Africa. Mail from home eventually caught up with us but replying was somewhat difficult, once again our officers censored it and we could not give any indication as to our precise whereabouts. All of our workshop equipment arrived with us. The 1000 personnel who set off from Northern Ireland were split into much smaller Field Workshop units; I was posted to a unit consisting of 90 men and we were allocated certain machines and materials, which we loaded onto lorries.

Owing to my previous experience as a stretcher-bearer and working in the sick berth aboard the troopship I was given the job of Medical-orderly in this new unit and issued with items of medical kit, responsible for the medical care of members of the unit, anything beyond my capability I took to the nearest Medical officer. When all was satisfactorily assembled we moved, by road to a smaller site near to the Suez Canal. We now stocked up with stores for use in our mobile Infantry Brigade workshop.

The site turned out to be infested with flies and dysentery; I was frequently taking men for medical treatment, and so we moved to another site near to the Bitter lakes where we were able to swim during off-duty hours. A time serving soldier with the rank of sergeant who was given responsibility to keep us trained in all things military organised weapon training sessions for us at a firing range nearby where he put us through a course of firing rifle, Bren gun, Boys anti-tank gun and Mills hand grenade throwing and launching; thankfully none of us were called upon to use these in action.

A chain of open air cinemas was operating in the area which we were able to enjoy, we were made welcome at a naval base on the shores of the Bitter lakes and spent some pleasant times in their clubroom and bar.

In the vicinity were a number of Balkan women who fled from their homes as the German army advanced and occupied their countries; they were in hutted accommodation in a compound with a high wire fence. Entrance was only allowed on production of identification, we were welcomed on occasions when social evenings were being held and note of our rank, number, name and unit were taken at a reception desk these evenings were quite pleasant with light refreshments offered, no alcohol! A check was also made on our leaving.

Transport was laid on from time to time to take us to Ismalia a very pleasant town on the banks of the Sweet water canal, parks and gardens laid out in European fashion were green and colourful due to constant irrigation with water from the canal

Quite unexpectedly we were ordered to prepare for movement and overnight the Desert camouflage on our vehicles was changed to European camouflage; we were quickly on the move and boarded a ship at the southern end of the Suez Canal, sailed north into the Mediterranean. The ships lifeboats had been replaced with landing craft and it was made known to us that we were heading for landings on Sicily and were shown on maps and a model of the island exactly where we would be landing.

Only half the personnel of our unit were involved in this landing; I was one of them. We arrived at the very southernmost point of the island before dawn on the 10th July 1943 after a very rough crossing; smaller vessels in the convoy had been bobbing about like corks.

Commandos were the first to scramble down rope ladders into the landing craft and go ashore; followed by Infantrymen they quickly overpowered the enemy defence forces, and we followed them to our appointed rendezvous, set up our workshops and got working on repairs and maintenance. We moved north on the eastern side of the island in close contact with brigade headquarters skirting the landward side of Mount Etna and on to Messina.

The whole operation had taken about 6 weeks, we now had a quiet break for about seven days during which we put our own house in order so that everything was in place for the next part of the campaign, trucks were made available daily to take us to a sandy beach at Taormina for swimming; this was most enjoyable and served to keep us fit.

Against advice issued by our military authorities some of our men decided to try out rifles which had been abandoned by the Italians; this brought about a near fatal accident when one of the rounds exploded prematurely in the breach of a rifle smashing a lens in the firers spectacles and pitting his forehead with particles of spent gunpowder; the lens undoubtedly saved his eyesight and very possibly death.

At the start of this campaign anti-malaria tablets, insect repellent cream, and hoods made of fine netting were issued and orders were given that shirt sleeves were to be rolled down to the wrists, hoods to be worn over headgear and tucked into collars and cream applied to wrists and hands, at night we slept in bivouacs with netting over the entrances to keep out malaria carrying mosquitoes; known breeding grounds were sprayed in an effort to keep the numbers down.

The Major commanding our unit had left his Jeep in Egypt and was using a motorcycle to carry out his duties, after a few days travelling the primitive tracks of the island he was somewhat saddle-sore and our recovery team brought in an abandoned Italian car and since there was little work for me in the workshops I was given the job of driving him around, and I saw a bit of the action going on around our area, thankfully I was never called to take part.

At Messina the half of our unit that had been left behind caught up with us; now it was their turn to go into action, they took part in the landings on the Italian mainland, and the rest of us crossed the Messina straits to Italy.

The landings our men took part in proved to be more difficult and dangerous than landing on the island, when we caught up with them I had one or two shrapnel and bullet wounds to apply dressings to. One of our men was awarded for his courage when rescuing wounded men from the sea, none of the men of our own unit were seriously wounded, and so we were back to full strength

The civilian population were very short of medical aid and the Royal Army Medical Corp (R A M C), who now occupied hospitals in the region attended people who required treatment; I was called upon to do what I could and to transport some of these sick people to the hospitals and other medical centres; I encountered some pitiful cases, some of them had been badly neglected. Our address during this campaign remained M E F as it had been while we were in Egypt and although my wife will have learned of the landings on Cicily and Italy through radio news she would not have known that I was involved, I could have been in Egypt, anywhere in North Africa or on the landings.

Our mail had caught up with us and we were able to write home. Keeping close contact with brigade headquarters once more we moved northward along the west coast of Italy. From the beginning of this campaign the weather had been very hot and dry; but then quite suddenly one night as we slept in our bivouacs it rained heavily, we had set up our workshops in a Lemon grove and the sudden downpour turned the ground into a quagmire; with the exception of a heavy recovery vehicle none of our vehicles were able to move, the recovery section towed us out one by one.

We carried on northwards with the brigade until we were suddenly halted and after a couple of days we moved south to Taranto, boarded a troopship and sailed west-ward past Malta, along the coast of Algiers, through the straits of Gibraltar and back to Blighty. I'm not sure where we disembarked but after a train journey we occupied wooden hutments with concrete floors in a disused mushroom farm in Essex.

During the campaigns in Cicily and Italy we lost one man killed by a landmine while he was out with the vehicle recovery team recovering a vehicle that was in need of workshop attention. We did have the odd frightening experience; on one occasion we were settling into an orchard and a "red- devil", a small explosive device was spotted in the branch of a tree, had the tree been jolted the device would have exploded and caused serious injury or even death to anyone nearby, we quickly evacuated the site.

On another occasion we had entered an orchard and a team of Royal Engineers arrived with mine detectors and ordered everybody to remain perfectly still as they swept the area, this took quite a while; nothing dangerous was found. The odd enemy aircraft broke through our defences from time to time and we were subjected to strafing with machine-gun fire, we suffered no injuries and very little damage. The Italians soon gave up the fight; thousands lay down their arms and made their way southwards away from the battle areas.

It was now November 1943, cold and miserable, we had left a hot climate behind, and getting acclimatised took quite some time. We were given 10 days disembarkation leave so once again I headed for a few pleasant days in Norfolk with family and friends. My son was now about eighteen months old and getting quite playful although he wasn't quite sure who this strange man was; sleeping in mummy's bed; where he should be, our daughter was now attending school and I heard all about teachers and playmates.

Beer was now in short supply owing to the essential brewing ingredients being rationed, which gave pub landlords quite a headache trying to serve his regulars fairly; fortunately when I was on leave I was accepted as a regular and could get a couple of pints and a game of dominoes. Pubs in those days were "tied" to a brewery, which meant we had little choice, beer drinkers tended to be smokers the older men being pipe smokers consequently the air was filled with dense smoke most of the time.

We were moved to a mushroom farm our strength was doubled to 180 men. We now had another textile refitter and he and I were given the job of fitting the officers mess floor with coconut matting after which we were allowed a 48hr pass I was unable to get home in so short a time and so spent a couple of days with an old school pal and his wife living in Chelmsford.

On returning I carried on with my medical duties on top of which I was given the job of postal orderly; collecting the mail from brigade headquarters and distributing it to the officers and lads, I enjoyed doing these duties as I was almost my own boss and was excused all guard duties, parades and roll-calls.
The order was given that all inoculations and vaccinations were to be brought up to date, which meant I had to examine every mans records and where appropriate take the men to the Medical officer for any treatment required and see that it was entered into the soldiers own service record book as well as keeping records for the unit office, this kept me busy for some considerable time.

After all these records had been completed we were on the move once again, this time to a farm on a large country estate in Hampshire. There was now some considerable activity in the workshops, a number of the brigade vehicles had to be waterproofed; modified so that they could travel a short distance submerged in water up to about 5ft deep, tests were carried out in shore localities in Norfolk and Suffolk, and then the work began in earnest.

A lot of welding was required to accomplish this work and early one morning I was called to attend a man who was suffering sharp stabbing pains in his eyes, up to this point I had not been fully aware of the workshop activities and had no idea as to the cause of the mans suffering, this was one for the M O and so I commandeered a truck from our transport lines and took the patient to the medical tent where I learned he had been involved with the welding work. The M O carried out some simple tests, which proved the man's eyesight was not permanently damaged and rest for a couple of days was prescribed.

On making enquiries I discovered that owing to the urgency which had been applied to the work in hand there had come about a shortage of welding goggles and ordinary sun glasses were being used, which gave no protection whatsoever against the damaging rays of the arc welders being used, two similar cases were successfully attended to by the M O. I was given the use of a motorbike to carry out the jobs I was doing and unofficially I used it to go to the village on errands for the lads, and while there I often popped into the local for a "quick one", the regulars soon came to know me and supplied the occasional jar of refreshment.

This very pleasant situation came to an end when we suddenly moved to a R E M E workshops training depot in Berkshire, where we were comfortably billeted in up to date army quarters. During March 1944 we were given 7 days leave in turn, it was on my seven days that I last saw my father; he was a very sick bedridden man and my last memory of him was as I sat by his bedside playing Cribbage with him, a card game he enjoyed; we had played the game many times in the past.

I then went to the cottage to spend the rest of my leave with my family. Life in the village was carrying on very much the same as it was when I last visited, the women were coping very well with all the problems brought about by shortages and rationing, a great neighbourly system had evolved; if one was short of a spoonful of sugar someone would have one to spare. The family were in good health, and the children were happy and contented.

All too soon I had to return to my unit; I was granted a 24hr pass to visit my sister who had been promoted to the rank of Company Sergeant Major and posted to an A T S centre; training raw recruits and kitting them out with clothing before sending them on their way to join units all over the country, I was able to have a meal with her and take a walk into town before catching a train back to my billets

Workshops were kept very busy at this time; making sure everything was in good working order. Our responsibility was to maintain all manner of equipment issued to the brigade; up to a specified standard, anything beyond our capabilities was sent to base workshops.

All was going very well; when suddenly on the 6th June there was considerable aerial activity, planes with strange markings were flying over, one of our sergeants told me the "2nd front" had begun at last; it had been announced over the radio. The invasion of Normandy had started.

When Hitler abandoned his idea of invading England early in the war he had turned his military might on Russia and a long and bloody battle had raged ever since; millions of young men had been killed and wounded. During this time there had been an ever increasing opinion among the British people urging the government to start a "2nd front" in order to take some of the German army away from the onslaught on Russia.

We very soon moved into the New Forest where facilities had been installed so that we had no need to unload our vehicles, cookhouses, canteens, showers and equipment for us to workout and keep fit were all there, I was allocated a place for the medical equipment in our instrument repair wagon, this was a vehicle similar to a mobile home, built on a high chassis, I landed on the beach in this vehicle.

We remained in the New Forest until "D + 8" (8 days after D day) when we boarded a Tank Landing Craft (L C T), I learned later that we had been due to cross the channel on "D + 6" but the sea had been much too rough for crossings by the craft we were in, after a very rough passage we landed on the beach at Asnelles near Arromanches on "D + 9", by which time fighting on the beaches had ceased, we quickly made our way up the beach, over the dunes and stripped our vehicles of the waterproofing which had been applied earlier, after which we drove inland to a farmyard location not far from Bayeux.

I found space in a barn for the medical equipment and as there was a liberal amount of straw around I laid my blankets in a suitable spot, the workshops spread themselves around the farm, where possible under trees and hedgerows to camouflage our whereabouts as much as possible. We were now in a large bridgehead and the front line forces were fighting desperately to hold on and enlarge the area and also to gain foothold in some towns and docks.

Compo rations were now our main source of food; Boxes containing sufficient food for seven men for one day or conversely for one man for seven days, the food in these boxes was pretty good.

We remained in this situation for several weeks and during that time we made a large tent, about 12ft square for the R A M C to be used as a hospital tent. At this point I feel I should point out that among the machinery we packed in Northern Ireland at the end of 1942 was an industrial sewing machine and I used this throughout the Italian campaign, now it was with us in Normandy, very useful! "Q; What did you do in the war daddy? A; I used a sewing machine to help win the war, Son!!"

After a few days letters arrived and amongst the first to arrive was one from my mother telling me my father had died, this did not surprise me; he was a very sick man when I last saw him. I applied for compassionate leave; not surprisingly I was told this was impossible under existing circumstances, I wrote home to mother.

During our time in the bridgehead I and one or two mates took a walk into Bayeux I spotted a number of soldiers of the Royal Norfolk Regiment amongst them was a man I had lived near to in South Lynn we had been at infants school together but after that we had gone different ways and lost touch, we met again after the war at a regimental gathering.

At about the time that we completed the hospital tent allied forces broke through the German defences and headed towards northern France through a narrow gap at Falaise, this was known as the " Falaise gap". The Germans were on both sides of a long column of our forces moving northwards and made repeated attempts at cutting into and stopping the column, they occasionally scored a hit and disabled a vehicle, our unit lost one vehicle through this type of enemy action.

A command was issued that no attempt be made to recover any disabled vehicle; anything causing an obstruction was to be pushed off the road in order to keep the column moving. As we progressed slowly on our journey we witnessed the destruction that had been wreaked on the French towns and villages by the thousands of allied bombers we had seen flying over during the time we had spent in the Normandy bridgehead, some were completely flattened and our engineers had bulldozed a passage through the debris.

Hundreds of dead German soldiers bodies lay decomposing in heaps by the roadside causing a strong nauseating smell; no doubt they were given a decent burial when circumstances permitted.

Animals were suffering, cows needing to be milked, as they had been accustomed to; were in distress, one of our men was quite capable of doing this but to do so would have given only temporary relief; whenever we moved on the suffering would start again, if left alone the milk supply would dry up and the animals would recover, having tuberculosis in mind it would not have been advisable to drink the milk.

We came to a halt at the end of a day and very quickly our cooks produced a hot meal and gallons of hot tea. The scenes we had witnessed were extremely disturbing and live in the memory to this day.

Our next move was made under cover of darkness; a difficult task for drivers, no lights were allowed; the exception being a light installed beneath the rear of each vehicle and beamed to the banjo casing of the rear axle; the casings were painted white with each units own number, usually 2 or 3 digits, painted in black. Drivers had to concentrate on the number on the axle of the vehicle in front. To lose sight of this meant losing the convoy, the journey was slow and arduous; however, we made our destination intact.

Our cooks once again produced a meal and tea. Drivers checked their vehicles for oil, water and tyre pressures etc ready for the road in a few hours time, it seems the cooks and drivers were the only people doing a job of work, the rest of us were simply eating and finding a place to lay down and sleep; in lorries, under lorries under hedgerows etc.

It was during one of these halts that I came across a hand operated milk separator; a machine used to separate cream from the milk, having used one of these when spending school holidays on a farm with an aunt and uncle I could not resist giving the thing a "crank".

Once in motion these machines give off a continual extremely high pitched sound which in this instance sent a message to a number of cats, unfortunately there was no milk to be had but they gathered around the machine waiting hopefully; poor creatures, I wondered how long it had been since they'd had a drink of milk, and how long it would be before the next one?

Throughout these movements my fellow textile-refitter and I travelled in a lorry with the two carpenters as we did during the whole of the campaign in Europe. There had been no news from home for several days and some of the men were beginning to get a bit homesick, anyway, slowly we made our way northwards. In Arras we were greeted by thousands of people in the streets, cheering, waving climbing on to vehicles with flowers and big hugs and kisses but there was no stopping, on we went.

By this time the French people were beginning to take revenge on those among them who had collaborated with the Germans during the occupation; I witnessed beatings in the streets, several men and women beating one man, on two occasions women who had had their heads shaved were being dragged through the streets and spat at; tempers were flaring.

A short time after this I was feeling unwell but was reluctant to report sick, one of our drivers came to me who was looking decidedly ill, he had a temperature of over 100 degrees Fahrenheit and I was initially puzzled, his pulse was racing; a medical officers services was required urgently; I was directed to a Canadian medical unit not far away and a truck and driver were placed at my disposal.

I was certain by now this was a malaria case, but how and why? I expressed my thoughts to the medical officer and he dismissed the idea altogether insinuating the man was a malingerer and no treatment was prescribed. I knew this man well, we first met in Ireland, in no way could he be taken for a "Dodger".

On arrival at our unit location I went to the Adjutants truck hoping to find the location of another M O; without success, after a few minutes talking with the Adjutant it was decided I should return to the M O and endeavour to explain to him the situation more fully, the M O listened to what I had to say and filled out the necessary form for me to take the patient to a field hospital for further examination.

In mitigation and in fairness to the Canadian M O I must point out that he and his fellow soldiers had arrived in Belgium with no experience of war zone life, the patients' temperature had been 100degrees when I first examined him but such is the nature of the suspected disease that when the M O examined him it may well have dropped to normal, during the M O's training he had been taught to be on the lookout for malingerers.

At the hospital a simple blood smear examined under a microscope followed by external, hands on examination of the pancreas, which swells and becomes painful during attacks of malaria proved positive; the man was admitted. I requested a similar test, which was granted; owing to a misunderstanding I was sent back to the unit, a message for me to return to the hospital and be admitted arrived the next day. I was admitted to an army hospital set in a nunnery.

We were suffering a benign type of malaria, rest and doses of pills was the treatment. Our efforts to ward off the malaria-carrying mosquito when on service in Sicily had been thwarted. Only one other case became manifest; 3 cases amongst 90 men not bad I suppose! Relapses; each becoming weaker, would occur during the next few years from time to time. I suffered one relapse before discharge from the army and 3 more over a period of about 4 years after discharge from the army.

The day after my admittance to the hospital an artillery battery situated nearby began a duel with their German counterparts and we lay wondering when one of their "whiz-bangs" might land off target; thankfully it didn't happen, what the outcome of the duel was I would never know. As I lay there I thought of the family and how they were faring; I had received no news since the breakout from the Normandy beachhead.

After about 10 days I was sent to a rehabilitation centre and was reunited with the man from my unit who had also recovered from his bout of malaria, our Company Sergeant Major came along and returned us to the unit in the north of France, letters from home had arrived with the news that all was well and I replied right away.

We moved on into Belgium at a slower pace than hitherto, setting up workshops wherever possible to carry out maintenance and repair work. Enemy resistance was becoming stronger as we moved northwards, there were also pockets of enemy forces remaining in France, which had to be dealt with to prevent any interference with our very long communication and supply lines

Arriving at Ypres our workshops were able to catch up on a backlog of work, we stayed there for a few days longer than we had done in recent locations and were billeted with Belgian people in their homes, we were made most welcome and comfortable by these people. All too soon we were ordered to leave yet another very pleasant situation and move on.

We moved to a position near Antwerp for a week or two and then on to Nijmegen in Holland, battles were being fought to keep a hold on river bridges while preparing for the big push to cross the Rhine into Germany, during this time we were on the receiving end of enemy artillery fire when one of our lorries was hit and burned out, luckily none of our men were injured.

We were amazed, one day, to see planes flying overhead each towing two or more gliders, there appeared to be thousands of them; we learned later this was the ill-fated drop on Arnhem.

By November 1944 the Allies had liberated France and Belgium and the port of Antwerp was opened. At about this time the 50th infantry division was withdrawn from the front, we withdrew to a village in Belgium and were given the task to service about 50 Buffalo tanks; amphibian tanks, in readiness for the Rhine crossing, my task was to kit each tank out to specification with ropes, anchors and barge poles.

Here we were billeted in the homes of the local population and once again I was called to attend to the medical needs of the locals, which I was able to do without neglecting my part in refurbishing the tanks. Having completed this task we moved to a village near Antwerp docks where we serviced and prepared Canadian vehicles that had arrived at the docks, for the road.

The Germans were now using a new type of weapon to wreak havoc on London, it was an unmanned flying-bomb known as the "V 1"; launched from specially constructed ramps in the coastal areas of France and Belgium, radio controlled and timed so that the engine cut out over London and its approaches, it then dived and landed indiscriminately; exploding on impact.

The Londoners dubbed it the "Buzz Bomb"; it could be heard as it was approaching but when the engine "cut" it was impossible to judge where it might land and explode. Some of these over flew our positions on the continent and occasionally cut, dived and exploded prematurely. The R A F did have a modicum of success in shooting these down, and I did hear a report saying our pilots had on occasion used their wingtips to send the bombs off course and into the sea.

The R A F went into action and demolished the launching sites, which brought an end this threat. The next terrifying and destructive weapon thrown at London was known as the "V 2", a rocket propelled bomb, which unlike the "V 1" was inaudible as it approached, it would land without warning and explode on impact, causing destruction, death and injury over a wide area. The launching sites for these had been very cleverly concealed and our air and ground forces experienced considerable difficulty searching them out and destroying them, the only way to stop their use;

The end of the war in Europe was announced on the 8th of May 1945 and to celebrate; one half of our men were granted a day pass and the other half a pass the following day, the majority threw discipline to the wind and celebrated both days, a well stocked café in the village opened it's doors to all and sundry and a good time was enjoyed by civilians and military for 48 hrs. We carried on with the work for a while. Equipment was required for the occupation forces in German.

Our next move was to a suburb of Antwerp where we set up a "Line of communication workshop" repairing equipment and vehicles for units of the allied forces passing through on their way to Germany. This was my final move.

Demobilisation was now being organised, we were given Demob numbers based on length of service, mine was 21, several members of our unit had this number, like me they were Territorials pre-war and had served throughout the war, the date for release was not immediately announced but we felt we had done our bit and lost all interest in the workshop.
We were given the opportunity to take a driving test, Army style which if successful would be accepted in civy street, I took mine in a three ton lorry, the tester being a transport sergeant who had been with us through the rough and tumble of the campaigns of the last few years "I couldn't possibly fail". The weather was warm and sunny and the civilian population entertained us in many ways.

Owners of a café took me swimming in a canal where I met a few pals including officers who were being similarly entertained; in the evenings they took us into the city to theatres and restaurants, I spent a considerable amount of time with these people, returning to the unit only to check for letters from home, bath and change clothing and collect pay, making sure to read the daily orders to take note of current order of demob dates. Paying more frequent visits as the numbers approached "21".

On one visit I noted the men were now having to knuckle down to peacetime army discipline, scrubbing floors and cleaning windows of the commandeered houses they were living in and laying out kit for inspection on their bed spaces; reminiscent of the days early in the war in Aldershot when the R S M took us in hand. I, like several others stuffed our kit into kitbags and took them to the people who were helping us enjoy our final months of army service.

These people were saying a fond farewell to their liberators and we were enjoying every moment of it. This situation lasted for several months and not once was I questioned as to my absence from the workshop. One sad incident occurred when one of our corporals; who had been with us through thick and thin, was thrown from a motorbike pillion seat and killed, He was given a military burial.

Some of our Officers, Warrant Officers, N C Os and men had been members of the Territorial Army before the war started and were not in the least interested in regular army service and had no desire to impose the strict military discipline now required, we had endured some tough and often very frightening times during recent years, we were all in it together irrespective of rank.
Then came the day in November 1945 when about a half-a-dozen of us said goodbye to the Belgian people who had befriended us and to the men some of whom had travelled from Northern Ireland round the Cape to Egypt, Cicily, Italy, through the Med, back to Blighty and through the Normandy campaign as far as the banks of the Rhine. (The field workshop that was formed in Egypt left Antwerp after I was released, went to Hamburgh and having completed it's work liberating the countries of Europe; was disbanded).

We began our journey by train at Antwerp, by which route we crossed the channel I cannot recall, a train took us to a demobilisation centre in Northampton where we were fitted out with civilian clothing; every item of army issue had to be accounted for and handed in under penalty of payment for any item missing, and soon we were on our way home!!

The remainder of my story tells of my experiences during the aftermath of the war.

During the weeks that we had been counting the days to our release the army had issued some advice as to what to expect on returning to "civy-street" ie, not to expect our women to be quite the same as when we left home six years ago, they had been through tough times just as we had and were still having to cope with shortages, rationing and the frustrations of trying to feed and cloth themselves as well as the children, many items required to keep a clean and tidy home were either in short supply or non existent.

Likewise radio and newspapers for indulgence by our womenfolk had published advice, not to expect their men to be quite like they were when they left home. Many problems had to be resolved in order to keep families together, we did not easily split partnerships in those days, there were mental as well as physical scars to be healed. I had been very fortunate in that I had been home on leave on many occasions so that despite some lengthy periods when communication had been disrupted my wife and I had not completely lost touch, and the children did know me.

In many instances men had been away for years, prisoners of war, service in the middle-east desert conflict and the Far East where they had suffered disease and brutality by their Japanese captors, all of these had made harsh impacts on men's mentality and physique. Many men had given up hope of ever seeing home again and in sheer frustration gave up writing home. There were many acts of infidelity on both sides making it difficult to renew relationships, however, there was much forgiveness and families gradually settled down.

On being discharged I was given two months paid leave and during that time if I wished I could apply to rejoin the army with the same rank, trade qualifications and pay as before discharge. I settled for staying in civy-street!! My old job was waiting for me, and I spent Christmas and the New Year in the cottage with my family, also enjoying the company of the villagers.

This all passed much too quickly; I soon had to begin thinking about starting work, this is where post-war troubles began for me and I relate to them here as I am sure many thousands of families suffered similarly and it was all part of circumstances brought about by the war. My job was in King's Lynn and my family in the village 20miles distant. The government had promised, "Homes fit for Heroes" so I immediately applied for a council house in Lynn; not that I considered myself to be a hero; far from it!

Fortunately I was able to start work at the end of January, living with my mother in town from Mondays to Fridays and making my way to be with my family on Saturdays and Sundays; not so very simple! Buses ran about twice a week to the village. A carriers cart owner very kindly offered lifts mid-afternoon on Fridays but owing to work commitments this was not always convenient, and so I waited for a bus on Saturday evenings and back to town Sunday afternoons; not giving me much time with my family; not at all satisfactory and quite depressing for all of us.

Very few people had cars on the road in those days; petrol was rationed and coupons to purchase were only given for business purposes, doctors or those on work of national importance and if stopped and questioned were obliged to prove they were on a journey for which the coupons were issued which meant there was not the slightest chance of anyone giving me a lift.

After several months I was offered a two-stroke motor cycle which I purchased and applied for petrol coupons which allowed me to buy sufficient petrol to travel between Lynn and the cottage two or three times a week; this was an improvement, if stopped on any other route and questioned by the police I could be fined and have my coupons withdrawn.

This was fine during the summer months, but come the winter, not so pleasant, particularly after Christmas and into 1947 when there were heavy falls and drifting of snow. At one time part of the road was impassable to motorists; I was just able to make my way slowly through gullies using my feet to keep upright.

However; through all of these problems a brighter side to life was emerging, I was able to spend more time with my wife and the children, going for bike rides and walks whenever the weather permitted. Family and friends provided baby sitters so that the wife and I could join in events in the village hall.

A village dance band was formed and somehow despite rationing refreshments was always available. Birthdays, weddings and homecomings were often celebrated and on these occasions a bar was set up by one of the local licensees.

The local postmaster was a retired army bandsman and on Saturday evenings my father-in-law and I and two or three others were invited to his workshop at the back of the post office to have a "Blow" for a couple of hours and thence to the local for a refresher as is generally the custom among bandsmen! Sunday evenings at one of the "locals" was good for a good old-fashioned "Sing-Song" a local lady played the ever popular music-hall numbers on the piano for soloists to sing; the assembled company joining in the choruses; Happy memories!!
All of this passed without having received any reply to my application to the council for housing, in desperation I wrote a strongly worded letter to the housing manager, sending a copy to the local press; which was published, this got things moving, and I received a reassuring reply. In about six weeks I was offered a house, albeit not in a very pleasant part of town but it did give me one foot in the door at the housing department.

I was now able to get our furniture out of store and give it a good clean and polish, added to this we obtained a quota of furniture tokens enabling us to purchase "Utility" furniture, this was made to a design approved by the government and stamped with a "utility" mark, something similar to a Trade mark.

The furniture could only be purchased on production of the required number of tokens, curtain material and household linen we were also able to obtain on production of tokens we had been allocated; added to this the pieces of second-hand furniture the wife had accrued while living in the cottage we now had a comfortable home. Electricity, gas, water and an indoor toilet were luxuries we had not enjoyed at the cottage.

Our daughter was allocated a place in the school my sister had attended some years previously, and our son to a school that I had attended as an infant close to where we were now living.

Despite all of these improvements I was not entirely happy with the surrounding environment and soon approached the council and people I knew in the right places as to the possibility of getting us moved to a more pleasant part of the town. Some eighteen months later we were on the move again where our children enjoyed playing outdoors with neighbour's children.

We now had a large well stocked garden and a garage where I was able to set up a small workshop as well as garaging the ex-WD motor cycle to which I had attached a sidecar, there had been some relaxation on petrol rationing, though not total abolition so that we could enjoy holidays and days out, visiting family and friends in "The Village" which had been our home for the war years. The wife enjoyed gardening and was now much happier. Petrol and food rationing was carried on for a number of years as was the allocation of tokens for household items and clothing.

At this point I reckoned that at long last we were a whole family, living in comfortable surroundings. And so my story ends.

Bye now

Footnote

Upon reflection I consider myself to be a very fortunate man in that I was given the opportunity to leave the front line area in 1940 and travelled to Nantes thus avoiding capture and imprisonment for the duration of the war. During the blitz on London I was fortunate not to be injured by falling bombs and shrapnel. The spell of duty in Northern Ireland was fairly tough but peaceful. I was then fortunate to have had the opportunity to have medical training on board ship and to be able to make use of this training during the remainder of the war. And above all I enjoyed several opportunities to come home to my family who supported me through thick and thin all of those years. And finally, in the year 2002 at the age of 87 years I have been able to put together this composition of my memoirs using this modern sophisticated piece of equipment "The Computer"

Aren't I just one very fortunate old fella'

Website Design & Publication © 2005 Dersingham.com Web Services